Hot Chocolate and Snowflakes
by Gap Between the Lines
Summary: In winter Gilbert always slows down and visits a little coffee shop to drink hot chocolate and do his Uni work. This year, however, there's a shy new barista with blue eyes and glasses who Gilbert can't seem to get out of his head. Warning: completely OOC Gilbert. Rated T because I don't like the letter K.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

He sat in a café sipping a cup of hot chocolate. The sky was clouded over outside, and it looked like snow was on its way. Gilbert smiled to himself, basking in the warmth of the drink as it slowly warmed up his fingers and toes; most of his friends were surprised at his winter habit of sitting in coffee shops and drinking warm drinks. Most people thought of him as the all-or-nothing type, making the assumption that all he wanted was a pint of beer and a party. That was true, but only up to a point- Gilbert loved to party and loved beer even more, but winter seemed to mellow him out. Instead of partying 24/7, he slowed down and just let himself recharge by drinking steaming mugs of hot chocolate and watching passers-by go about their business.

Sipping a bit more of the liquid, Gilbert returned his attention to the view out of the café front window. People in thick winter coats were shuffling by, hats and scarves bundled up to protect their faces from the winter chill. The shop opposite was lit up with Christmas decorations and fairy lights were strung up above the doorway. Children were pulling their parents over to admire the shiny new toys displayed in the store front and Gilbert couldn't help but smile a bit more at the familiarity of it.

He and Ludwig had done the same thing when they were younger, eagerly dragging their dad with them as they raced towards the toy shops. Those had been days of innocence and childish joy as they both picked out presents for each other and gazed in wonderment at huge plastic remote-controlled robot toys.

But that had been a long time ago, and now Gilbert was a fully grown adult at age twenty-two. Well, almost fully grown- he wasn't quite a mature role-model of a man, and the parties only served to prove that. It was true that he could still be mature if he wanted to, but there really was no point in being stuffy and uptight if you could have a good time instead. In his opinion, messing around and having fun was definitely more important that getting a job and moving on with his life. The only times he was reasonably mature was at times like these- where the sky was darkened with the first signs of snow and outside was far too cold to brave without drinking something warm first.

"Excuse me, sir, but are you done with that mug?" a timid voice asked from beside him. Looking up, Gilbert was met with two blue eyes hidden behind a pair of large glasses and longish blond hair framing a boy's face. Smiling a little, Gilbert lifted up his cup and offered it to the blond who took it with slightly shaking hands. Nodding his thanks, Gilbert turned back to the window as the boy shuffled off to the front of the café where the bar was located. As the tap turned on and the barista washed his mug, Gilbert stared outside at the pedestrians once more.

Five minutes of silent thoughts later, he gathered up his coat and put it on, wound his scarf around his neck and jammed his hat on his head. He then grabbed his wallet and, stuffing it into his jeans pocket, walked out of the café door. The bell tinkled merrily behind him until the door closed at his back, and Gilbert stood outside in the doorway for a moment, contemplating what to do next. A moment later, he stepped out onto the pavement and started walking towards his shared university apartment. A snowflake landed on his nose as he made his way through the crowds of Christmas shoppers, and he let his eyes crinkle in childish joy at the first snowflake of the year. Brushing it off his face, Gilbert looked upwards and noted the thousands of little white blobs floating down from the clouds. As much as he loved the snow, he knew that dawdling and staying outside would most likely result in him freezing to death while he played in the snow. So Gilbert plunged his slowly numbing hands in the pockets of his jacket and walked a little faster towards the distantly shining apartment building ahead of him.

**So, like it or hate it? Tell me in a review and I'll give you a virtual cookie for your trouble. Unless you leave me a flame- in that case, I will steal the heat to thaw out my tub of ice cream.**

**Oh, I know, Gilbert is completely out of character. I don't care much- my story, my rules. ;) Though, if someone likes the story and I decide to continue it, he will become a little more like the Gilbert that we know and love.**

**Thanks for reading! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Gilbert stopped outside a slightly decrepit-looking door on the second floor of the apartment building, melting snow dripping off the bottom of his coat and making a small puddle on the floor. He reached inside his jacket pocket for the apartment key, found it, and fumbled slightly as he unlocked the door with cold hands. He opened it, and the door swung inwards to reveal the two other inhabitants of the flat sitting on the sofa with their backs turned to him, playing video games.

Sighing, Gilbert entered and took his hat, scarf and coat off then dropped them on the floor- someone else could clean them up later. He kicked the door shut and glanced at his two friends. Both were completely entranced by the game, and neither had even noticed that he'd opened the door. Smirking mischievously, Gilbert walked up behind them and simultaneously knocked off both their headphone mics and screamed. The result was instantaneous- the two jumped off the sofa and landed on the floor in an unceremonious lump, screaming their heads off. Gilbert laughed and jumped over the back of the sofa, falling on top of his friends and squishing them.

"Keseseseses, you guys should have seen yourselves- you sound like two teenage girls!"

The screaming stopped.

"Gilbert, is that you?" A voice piped up from underneath his stomach.

"Yes, it is the awesome me. Who else would give off this much awesome just by being in a room?"

Another voice spoke up near his legs, "Arthur."

"Shut up and take that back, Francis. We all know that Arthur's a stuffy prick, even when he's in the best of moods."

"Still more awesome than you are, you fils de pute!" the voice by his legs spoke again.

Gilbert kicked him.

"Ow, ow, ooowwww. Merde! You'd better hope that didn't leave a bruise, you bastard!"

"Gilbert, what did you do to Francis?" And there was the voice under his stomach.

"Oh, nothing Toni, never mind."

"He kicked me in the fucking face!" Francis grunted, moving around to try and crawl out from underneath Gilbert's legs.

"Gilbert, don't hurt Francis- it's mean!" Antonio berated him, though the overall effect was ruined due to the fact that he was trapped underneath Gilbert's chest and his voice sounded strange because Gilbert lying partially on his neck..

"Yeah Gilbert, don't hurt me." Francis hit Gilbert as he stood up, pulling Antonio up as well. Gilbert was left sprawled out on the floor in an incredibly ungraceful mess of limbs and clothes.

"Will you help me up?" he pouted, lifting up his arms and making grabby hands towards the other two.

Francis huffed and walked off towards the kitchen, flipping his shoulder-length blond hair as he turned his head. Gilbert looked up at Antonio and stuck his lower lip out in an even bigger pout.

"Toni?"

Antonio sighed and, leaning down, grabbed Gilbert's hands and pulled him to his feet.

"Thanks Toni," he said, brushing his clothes down to get rid of the dust (they really ought to clean but none of them could be bothered). Then he turned around to face the kitchen and shouted, "At least someone's nice to me!"

Francis yelled back, "You hear that, mon ami? That is the sound of _me not giving a shit_."

"Yeah, well I can't hear you over the sound of my awesome!" Gilbert replied.

"Guys…" Antonio tried to but-in.

Then there was a thump from the flat next door.

"Fuck," All three said simultaneously, stopping what they were doing and whipping their heads around to stare at the wall. Gilbert turned to Francis, who was looking at the wall with fear in his eyes. Surely it wasn't…

"SHUT THE _FUCK_ UP, YOU GITS, BEFORE I COME IN THERE AND MAKE YOU!" An (immensely) angry voice screamed from the other flat. Antonio visibly paled- they'd already been subjected to some of the threats, and none of the three wanted to go through that ever again. When Arthur threatened you, he wasn't just saying things to scare you. They knew that now, but really wished they'd realised sooner.

"S-sorry Arthur," Francis said meekly, "We'll try to be quieter."

There was a pause, then, "You damn well better, you bloody frog. And the other two imbeciles need to shut up or get out. I mean it."

They heard Arthur's footsteps walk away from the wall, then a click as his TV turned on. After a few seconds, when they were all fairly certain that Arthur wasn't going to smash through the wall and kill them, the three friends released a breath that they didn't realise they'd been holding. They looked at each other, then burst into relieved sniggers (which were quickly quietened when they heard Arthur's sofa creak).

"So, I take it this means that we can't have an action movie marathon tonight?" Antonio asked, looking sad when the other two nodded in affirmation.

"No movies for us tonight, Toni. Maybe tomorrow," Francis answered. Seeing the look on Antonio's face (and remembering how hard it had been to cheer Toni up again last time this had happened), he quickly added, "I tell you what, how about you go check on Romano, okay?"

Antonio nodded, and, before Gilbert or Francis could blink, he was rushing out the door with his coat and shoes, a giddy (and oblivious) smile on his face.

Francis turned to Gilbert, "Do you think I should visit Arthur?"

"I don't think anyone should visit Arthur without a loaded gun and a bomb strapped to their chest." Gilbert said honestly.

Francis gave him a look. Gilbert gave in.

"_Fine_, go check on your oh-so-special Arthur while I sit here on my own with my homework for company."

Either Francis hadn't heard the silent '_Don't leave me alone in this stingy flat'_, or he just chose to ignore it, because the next second he had slammed the front door shut and was knocking on Arthur's door. Gilbert thought that Arthur would just shut the door in Francis' face, but- to his immense surprise and confusion- he heard Francis be invited inside and the door close quietly behind him.

Silence reigned throughout the small flat for a few minutes, before Gilbert realised that neither of his friends were coming back any time soon. Huffing, he walked into his room and started on the large pile of homework and essays sitting on his desk.

**Fils de pute- son of a bitch/whore**

**Merde- shit**

**Mon ami- my friend**

**I got readers! Actual, tangible, real life readers. ~Happiness~ Yeah, I know this doesn't seem like much to most people, but I like to celebrate the small victories in life- like finding a tenner in your pocket or discovering a chocolate bar in the cupboard. That sort of stuff.**

**Anyway, special thanks to: **spiritualnekohime4**, **Ramengrl** and **ForeverKinght** for taking the time to review.**

**Oh, and I fitted in the btt. Yeah, they share a Uni flat. And, yeah, I know that them living in a flat together can only result in a catastrophe- which is exactly why they are sharing a flat.**

**Pleasedon'tkillmetherewasnoMatthewinthischapter**

**Reviews are my drug, and you don't want to deny an addict their high.**

**Flames are inventively used to keep my pet neko warm.**

**Wow this author's note was long. Sorry.**

**I have no idea why I'm apologising.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The next day, Gilbert found himself walking through a thin layer of snow in the direction of the coffee shop. Francis and Toni had both been out for the whole of yesterday evening and neither had come back until late at night, leaving Gilbert alone to do his homework with nothing but his thoughts for company. However, even after hours of working without so much as a conversation to distract him (the one he'd had with himself didn't count), Gilbert still had to finish half an essay that was due in the next day. So, since Toni had invited round his friends for a gaming marathon in their lounge, Gilbert had had no choice but to flee the apartment in search of somewhere a little quieter to finish off his work. The first place that had come to mind as he was tugging on his shoes had been the little café that he had sat in the previous day, and without so much as a 'goodbye' he had left the flat as he slung his bag onto his shoulder.

Now, kicking up little flakes of powdery snow from the pavement, Gilbert couldn't help but think that maybe he'd been a little rash. Antonio's friends were load, but that wasn't anything that headphones and loud music couldn't fix.

Though loud music did tend to lead to a one-person rave in his bedroom, so maybe leaving had been the best idea after all.

He huffed out a breath, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it turned to steam when it left his mouth. Puffing again, Gilbert realised that he looked like a dragon.

The next few minutes were filled with him running down the pavement, head in the air and blowing out breaths like a train.

Glancing up and taking a look at his surroundings, he was a little surprised to see the softly glowing sign of the café a couple of meters down the road from where he was; it seemed that he had managed to run over halfway there without realising it.

Pushing the glass door open, a gust of warm air rushed out of the café and hit him in the face, ruffling the loose strands of his platinum hair that had escaped the confines of his hat. Quickly slipping through the entryway and shutting the door behind him, Gilbert looked around the coffee shop. There was no one around save for a barista, who had his back turned as he washed up glasses. Walking towards the counter, Gilbert looked up at the blackboard that was showcasing every drink and snack that the café had to offer. He pulled off his gloves while standing in front of the bar, trying to find an interesting warm drink on the board.

"Hello, can I, like, totally help you?" The barista had turned around and was now facing him, chin-length blond hair swishing in front of green eyes. His nametag declared that he was called Feliks.

"Oh yeah, could I have a… um…" Gilbert looked back up at the board in search of something that sounded nice, but nothing caught his eye. He turned to the barista and, flashing him a smile, said, "I tell you what, you choose for me. I'm sure you'll choose something nicer than I will."

Feliks grinned at him, blushing slightly. He glanced at the board, but then his smile faded a little as he took in the amount of drinks options, "Um, well, as totally nice as the offer is, I'm afraid I would probably pick, like, something even worse than you would." At Gilbert's confused look (seriously, why would someone deny his awesome offer? Anyone could tell that he'd been flirting and why would Feliks say no to… oh… Was Feliks straight? Oops), Feliks carried on, "You see, I haven't actually been working here that long. Like, at all. In fact, I, like, only started this morning. So I'm probably more clueless than you are as to what drinks taste nice."

Gilbert smiled slightly in relief (oh, good, it was only because Feliks actually didn't know what to choose, not because he'd somehow gotten offended. Not that you could get offended if a hot guy such as himself started flirting with you, gay or not) and decided to small-talk as he chose a drink, "Oh, okay then, I'll just choose one myself. Well done for getting a job, by the way- my brother's been trying to get me to work for ages now, but every time I think about going out for interviews I get really tired and have to go take a nap."

Feliks giggled (did guys do that?) at the comment, "Oh, I was totally forced into it by my parents. They said that my clothes were _way_ too expensive and if I bought any more my closet would, like, explode. And because I wanted to buy this one item, I had to use my own money instead of spending theirs."

"Oh, what sort of clothes do you buy then? They can't be _that_ expensive," Gilbert kept the conversation going, stalling for time but also a little interested in just how expensive this guy's clothes could be.

"Well, I usually get skirts or dresses, but sometimes I get cute little purses and stuff."

Okay, Gilbert hadn't seen that coming. He got the distinct impression that if he'd had anything in his mouth, he would have done a spit-take, "Skirts? What are you, a crossdresser?"

Feliks suddenly got a very hurt look on his face, and he angled his eyes so that he was looking down at the counter top, "And if I am?" his voice came out quieter than before.

Gilbert realised he'd found a touchy subject, "Oh, no, I was just surprised. I don't have anything against it," Then he figured that this was just too much of a chance to give up, "Besides, I think you'd look good in a skirt." He finished off with a wink. Francis, Gilbert decided, would be proud.

And a tomato would be proud of the blush that was rapidly forming on Feliks' cheeks.

"Oh, u-um thanks." Feliks stuttered.

"You're welcome," usually Gilbert would've just left the conversation there (he'd already decided on a Caramel Mocha as his drink of choice), but now Feliks had gotten him intrigued, "So, how much do you usually spend on clothes?"

"Oh, it depends. Sometimes it's only about ten pounds a piece, but the skirt that I wanted was, like, fifty."

Again, there would have been a spit-take had Gilbert been drinking anything, "Fifty! As in, fifty _pounds_? For a skirt?"

"Yeah. My parents said about the same thing when I asked them for the money. Except my dad got, like, really angry."

Curious, Gilbert asked, "How angry?"

Feliks' eyes darted up and met Gilbert's, green irises clouded by both anger and hurt, "He shouted at me, telling me that he'd had 'enough with the stupid girls clothes' and that I was 'throwing all his hard-earned money away'. Then he glared at me with enough hatred to kill a small animal- I swear, I totally heard a mouse drop dead- and pushed me into a wall. Like, really hard. Then he walked up to me and started to shout about everything that he hated about me. I didn't realise that there was so much that he didn't like about his own son.

"Obviously, I didn't want to stand around listening to him yell out all of my flaws, so I moved towards the staircase. But he just slammed his hands down onto my shoulders and kept me, like, pinned to the wall as he shouted. Every time I tried to move away, he would dig his nails further into my skin. So I stood there until he stopped yelling and turned all quiet. He let go of my shoulders, then calmly told me that I had ten minutes to pack my stuff and get out of his house before he, like, set the Rottweiler on me. I grabbed my credit card, my favourite clothes and a bit of money he'd left lying around, then ran out of the house as quickly as possible."

Shell-shocked, all that Gilbert could do was lean on the counter and stare at Feliks as his mind tried to make sense of what he'd just heard. Feliks didn't seem to notice, eyes unfocussed as he continued to remember what had happened, "I totally haven't been back since, but it's fine because I've found a small flat near the outskirts of town that I share with two other guys. I told one of them- his name's Matthew- what had happened, and he offered me a job at the café that he works at. Which is, like, this café."

Gilbert finally ordered his thoughts and pushed off the counter so he was standing at his full height. Looking at Feliks, he took in the slightly shadowy bags under his eyes (they were probably worse and just covered up with makeup) and slumped posture. He wondered how he'd missed them before.

"And you're okay with all of that?" Feliks' lack of emotional turmoil as he'd been retelling the story unsettled Gilbert a bit.

The blond met Gilbert's gaze, and the sheer amount of anguish, betrayal, pain and despair that was hidden in his eyes made Gilbert shudder.

"No."

Feliks' voice cracked, and suddenly the emotions escaped, tears streaming down his face as he supported his weight on the counter surface.

Gilbert didn't know what to do. He'd thought that no emotion had been strange, but this torrent of pure mental-turned-physical agony was scary. Thinking quickly, Gilbert remembered that Feliks had mentioned something about a flat mate (Mark? Marvin? No, Matthew) working in the café as well. Glancing back at the blond (who was still sobbing, propping his face up with his hands to make sure that he didn't fall), Gilbert looked around for a back room. He saw a doorway fitted snuggly between a sofa and a potted plant, and, deciding that it was his best bet of finding Matthew, quickly walked across the room and pushed the door open, stepping into a small corridor as he carefully closed the door behind him.

**1,706 words. Oh my gowd. Oh my gowd. This took me half a day to write.**

**You guys had so better enjoy it. ;)**

**In other news, I've almost finished Star Trek: TOS season one- anyone up for some oneshots? And, um, school. Let's just bypass that and all I'll say about it is: teachers be bitches, homework eats up my free time (and this fic devours the rest) and my friend had her birthday last week so I've been a baking machine.**

**So. The chappie. Like it? Tell me.**

**Hate it? Tell me.**

**Want to kill me because I was so mean to Feliks? I know I'm so sorry he's going to get better I promise.**

**Want to kill me because there is no Mattie? I know I'm so sorry he'll be in it non-stop(ish) next chapter.**

**Basically, please review. Reviews are Mint Bunnies and I am Iggy- without one the other does not exist.**


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